


A Song in the Sunlight

by MinervaFan



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Backstory, Betazoid History, Deanna's Childhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinervaFan/pseuds/MinervaFan
Summary: A gift from her mother brings back a significant childhood memory from Deanna Troi's life.
Kudos: 6





	A Song in the Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> A gift from her mother brings back a significant childhood memory from Deanna Troi's life.

Legal Disclaimer: I own nothing but the original characters and situations. I made no money on this story. Honest.

"The data are being transmitted by the _Calliope_ 's main computer, Captain." Data half-turned to face the _Enterprise_ captain. "Captain Knight on subspace."

"Put her on, Mr. Data." Picard stood, tugging at the bottom of his uniform tunic, while Data transferred the image of the science ship's captain onto the main bridge screen. "Jayna, it's good to see you again."

"And you, Jean-Luc." Captain Jayna Knight smiled across the cold void which separated her tiny research vessel from the _Enterprise_. A very young forty, her no-nonsense countenance and piercing blue eyes belied the blonde beauty image another might have had. She spoke in a husky contralto, words running together characteristically, a consequence of having too many thoughts for her voice to process properly. "Can't say how much I appreciate your taking hold of this data. Our equipment is top of the line, but we're only a science scout. For true number crunching, you need Galaxy class computers."

Counselor Deanna Troi sat in her chair on the bridge, only half-listening to the exchange going on. She focused on the back of Data's head, eyes darting from the stiffly-combed tresses to his swiftly moving hands. She paid only scant attention to the discussion of solar flares and the sensitivity of the data, focusing the larger part of her thoughts on a rather sticky situation with one of her clients. A single word from Captain Knight brought her attention fully back to the conversation.

"...Betazoid vessel in the Veloran sector. When she found out that we were scheduled to rendezvous with you, Commander Adrina asked that we would deliver a package to your counselor."

Deanna Troi rose, stepping behind Data's chair to address the captain directly. "What sort of package?"

"Counselor Troi?"

"Yes, I'm Deanna Troi. What sort of package is it?"

The _Calliope_ 's captain grinned, her face softening. "I've been wondering the same thing since we picked it up. There's nothing a scientist hates more than a mystery she can't take a crack at." At Troi's blank look, she sobered. "It carries the Ambassadorial seal of the Fifth House of Betazed--"

"Oh, Great Mother..." Troi muttered under her breath.

"What was that, Counselor?"

"Nothing. Prepare to beam it aboard." She turned to Picard. "That is, Captain, if it is all right with you--"

"Mr. Data, beam the package directly to the counselor's quarters," Picard ordered. Sotto voce, he added to Troi, "Counselor, I certainly hope there will not be a repeat of what happened with your mother's last gift."

Deanna Troi cast a concerned gaze over Data's shoulder, as if somewhere in the garble of technical jargon and flashing lights she would find a clue as to what was coming. "I will utilize the utmost caution, sir," she murmured.

Data looked up from his control console. "Package has been received, sir, as well as the last of the _Calliope_ data."

"Well then, Jayna, I suppose our business is concluded." Picard smiled graciously at the blonde woman, adding, "Please give my best to your family."

"Consider it done. Knight out."

As the screen darkened into the familiar pattern of stars, Troi turned to Picard. "Captain, if you don't mind--"

Picard dropped back into his command chair. "Not at all."

Will Riker stood as she pivoted towards the turbolift. "If I may be of some assistance?"

After casting a questioning glance at Picard, who nodded briefly, Troi smiled gratefully. "Yes, Commander. I would appreciate that very much." 

She stepped quickly onto turbolift. When the doors hissed shut, she tapped her communicator. "Troi to Doctor Crusher."

"Crusher here."

"Beverly, have you got a moment?"

"Of course. What can I do?"

"Meet me at my cabin" Troi murmured, meeting Riker's gaze and forcing a smile.

"So all the message said was that it was an important package from your mother?" Beverly Crusher asked as she met them in the hall just outside Troi's cabin. The doctor wore the slightly amused expression of someone who had seen this situation before.

"Let's just hope it's not another quint of Rigellian Matingales ready to nest in the engine room." Riker paused as he allowed the two women to enter the cabin before him. "Your mother's gifts tend to be rather...exotic."

Troi shrugged noncommittally. She had an odd feeling, something strange about this package which made her loathe to open it alone. She examined egg-shaped object as it bobbed in the center of her room, glimmering in a rainbow-white sheen of pearly energy. "It's a memory ball," she said quietly. "A time capsule."

At the sound of her voice, the ball began spinning, startling them with its suddenness. An eery feminine hum rose from the ball, rising in pitch as the speed of the rotations increased. The swirling rainbow colors melded together, intertwining until they fused into the image of a very young Lwaxana Troi. The image began to speak, its gentle contralto stark contrast to the high-pitched hum of the memory ball. "Deannan, you have reached a moment of memory. Thanks to the Mother of All Things." 

Crusher shifted her gaze from the mesmerizing spin of the ball to glance curiously at Troi. "`Deannan?'"

Riker smiled at the flushed look on Troi's face. "A Betazoid sociological convention. All feminine names end in `n' until that child is accepted as an adult, contributing member of society." 

"In the time before Time," the image of Lwaxana Troi continued its ritual speech, "The Holy Mother gave the gift of Sight to the children of Betazed. All share in the Sight of the Mother; every daughter of Betazed shares the responsibility of the Vision. At this moment, I celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of your first sensing. Sadly, the Mother chose that your first taste of true joy should be surrounded with grief. Take this memory, Little One, with my love."

At the close of the ritual speech, the image in the ball dissolved to pure white. The whirring hum increased in pitch as the memory ball lowered itself to the floor before the trio of _Enterprise_ officers, then dissolved, revealing a small olive tree sapling. A note was attached to one thin branch. Deanna Troi knelt before the gift, taking the note in one shaking hand. 

"Deanna?" Riker's voice was tinged with concern at her distant expression.

"`You are the best of your father,'" Troi read in a quiet tone. "`And the best of me as well.' It's what she told me when my father died."

Crusher and Riker exchanged a long glance, then Crusher placed a gentle hand on Troi's shoulder. "Would you like to be alone?"

Troi nodded slowly, gently caressing the leaves of the olive tree. She barely heard the others leave the room as the memories washed over her. 

* * *

__

Betazed.  
Some twenty-five years earlier.

Deannan Troi sat in the dirt just outside of her parents' home, pulling apathetically at the brightly-colored weeds which threatened her father's precious olive trees. The six-year-old wiped the dirty sweat from her forehead and told herself it could be worse. Aunt Winna was in the house, supervising preparations for her daughter Aristan's wedding. Since Aristan had turned seventeen and began preparing for her Passage, she had been no fun at all. 

Not that her cousin had been all that much fun to begin with. Deannan could not remember a time when Aristan had not used the fact that her mother would someday be Elder of the Fifth House to lord it over her younger cousins. And now that she was to have her Passage, all Aristan could do was prance about with her hair up, saying `Dirrin this' and `Dirrin that.' She'd even taken to calling herself `Arista,' though never in front of her mother, Deannan had noticed. Aunt Winna would not tolerate such impertinence even from her `darling baby.' 

Deannan wrinkled up her nose at the thought of Ari and her mother taking over her family's house for the next three days. Mother and Father had had no choice but to agree when Aunt Winna offered them the honor of throwing the Passage. Luckily for Father, he'd had urgent business on Earth for the last two weeks. Deannan wondered absently if the urgent business had anything to do with the fact that Father and Aunt Winna didn't like each other all that much.

She tugged at another weed, wishing she could go fishing with Papa Franz. Her grandmother's husband was wonderful--a red-faced, laughing German who was built like a tree. At least Mother had agreed when Aunt Du had offered to take Deanna out in the garden for a few hours. It wasn't quite the lake, but it was still better than inside with Aunt Winna. "Do we have to pull them all?" Deannan sighed, staring hopefully at her aunt.

"Deedle," Durya scolded and shook her head, a wisp of silver-red hair falling from under the brim of Franz' old hat. Even covered in mud and dressed in crumpled, old clothing, Aunt Durya was the most beautiful person Deannan had ever known. She had green eyes, almost never found on Betazoids, and a voice like Josz' Brook after a rain, bubbling and laughing and deliciously cool. Although she was only a few years younger than Aunt Winna, Aunt Du's face held none of the tightness that soured Winna's expression. Papa Franz had always said if Winna was the authority and Lwaxana the wit, then Durya was definitely the beauty of the family. "Do you want your father's trees to die?" Even with a frown burrowing between her bright green eyes, Aunt Durya's voice was only gently scolding. "How would he feel when he returned from Earth to know we'd let his favorite olive trees wither?"

The young girl looked doubtfully at the olive trees, then at the multi-colored Betazoid weeds, then back at her aunt. "The weeds are prettier," she began. She stopped when she saw her aunt's expression, and lowered her eyes apologetically. "I guess not," she said.

The sister of Lwaxana Troi leaned over to chuck Deannan's chin. "Once we have these weeds pulled, Deedle, we can go to the lake. I believe Franz has a little rowboat hidden out there, just where your mother won't find it."

Deannan brightened immediately. She loved the lake--Father and Franz had taken her out onto it several times. But her mother didn't trust boats, and with Father away, she refused to let her `little one' anywhere near the water. "Can I bring a fishing pole, like Franz?" 

Durya laughed, a sparkling mezzo which trickled from her lips like fairy music. "Of course you can, Deedle-bug. And we'll pack a little picnic lunch, and we won't tell anyone, not even Ari, where we're..." Her face paled suddenly, the brilliant green eyes dimming as she cocked her head towards the house. 

"What is it, Aunt Du?" the child inquired. Deannan Troi saw her aunt's eyes tear up. Durya took in a deep breath, shutting her eyes as if warding off some dreadful demon. "What's wrong?" Deannan tugged at her aunt's dirty sleeve, fear apparent in her tiny voice. "What's happening?"

Durya looked down at her young niece, face ashen, hands shaking. "We must go to your mother," she whispered.

* * *

Deannan tugged at her gown. The tiinama was heavy and scratchy and made her skin itch. She'd wanted to wear the dress Father had given her for her birthday, a real Earth dress he'd bought in New York City, but Aunt Winna had refused to hear of such a thing. When she'd tried to go to her mother for permission, the child was rushed out of the room and told to mind herself carefully. 

Now she sat in her bedroom, waiting for the Restoration to start, scared and frustrated. It seemed years since that dreadful day Father died. They'd run into the house to find Lwaxana crying hysterically, holding onto a grim-faced Aunt Winna. Even Ari had seemed shaken. As soon as Durya and Deannan entered the guest apartments, the older girl had hurried Deannan out of the room, and had played Tongo with her for a full hour without arguing even once.

It was only later that Aunt Du had explained in hushed tones that Father was dead, that she must be a very good girl and do as she was told. When Deannan questioned her, Durya said only that the ship which carried Father back home had been destroyed by something called a field coil explosion, and that she must be very brave for her mother. 

In the days which followed that horrible day, the house had been a flurry of activity, with Aunt Winna hustling here and there, giving orders as if she were already an Elder. No one had asked Deannan what she thought; no one had told her what was happening. Even Aunt Durya had been too busy for her, hushing her with a hurried kiss whenever she tried to help. Deannan was not expected to be a part of the preparations. She'd simply been told to do as she was told.

Deannan squeezed her eyes shut, trying to access her Betazoid empathic powers. She knew that she was far too young to sense even the strongest emotions. Once, she'd even heard Aunt Winna's spiteful prediction that, due to her half-Human ancestry, there was a chance Deannan would never be a real empath. Deannan couldn't understand why her aunt hated Earth so much. Grandmother Tatyana had married her Terran gardener, and Papa Franz was the most fun of any person she knew. Maybe Aunt Winna just didn't like to have fun.

Deannan remembered those times when her aunt had purposely ignored Papa Franz in company. Everybody noticed it, even Deannan. It didn't seem to matter to Aunt Winna that Grandmother loved him and was very happy. Aunt Winna would just sit there, wearing the same disapproving look she wore when she sat in the parlor listening to Father sing on Sunday evenings. Deannan clutched that memory to her, using the anger inside of her to focus, to clarify it until she could see her aunt's withered face perfectly in her mind. Still holding onto that image, she thought about her cousin's snobbish tilt of the head whenever she spoke about her powers in front of Deannan. If Aristan, who had no more sense than the weeds around Father's olive trees, could have empathic powers, then so could Deannan. The child tightened her fists into tiny, compact balls, concentrating not on her own thoughts, but on the feelings all around her. She reached out for her mother, but could hear nothing.

After a few exhausting moments, she gave up. The grownups were only in the next room; but as far as she could sense, they might as well have been on Earth. Deannan sighed. She may not be a telepath, but there were other ways of finding out what was going on. She lifted the heavy skirt of the robe she wore, pulling it around her knees as she stood on a chair, pressing her ear next to the wall. Hopefully, they would speak aloud, instead of the mind-talk they used when they didn't want the children to hear. There were sounds of tiinama dragging across the floor, and liquids being poured into the crystal glasses Mother had gotten for her anniversary from her Human in-laws.

A click at the door startled Deannan. She whirled around, scooting off the chair just in time to see her mother enter. Lwaxana wore a gown just like Deannan's, only glistening white instead of the family crimson, with gold stars embroidered over the endless train. Although she still wore the same smile she'd pasted on when the guests began to arrive, her mother's face was drawn and tired. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Deannan had never seen her mother cry before; nor had her mother ever looked tired before.

"Little One, the ceremony will begin in a few minutes," she said, placing a jeweled hand absently on her daughter's shoulder. "Durya said you don't want to come."

"I don't," Deannan muttered softly under her breath. "Do we have to do this? Father would have wanted to be buried on Earth. What about--"

"Your father was a citizen of Betazed. His body must be returned to--" Lwaxana began, sounding just for a moment like Aunt Winna.

The child pulled away from her mother, turning a tremulous pout to the opposite wall. She was sick of hearing about the Restoration, sick of the preparations which had kept Aunt Winna constantly in the house. She was tired of always wearing company clothes, of having to be polite, and of listening to Ari complain about having to delay her Passage for a funeral. Deannan wished they would all just leave. She wanted things to go back to the way they were before.

Lwaxana sighed, stepping carefully to the bed and sitting down. "Come," she coaxed, patting the bed next to her. Deannan looked over her shoulders through slitted eyes, still sulking. "Sit beside me for a moment."

Tugging reluctantly at her robe, Deannan shuffled across the floor to sit next to her mother. The older woman wrapped her in a firm embrace, allowing her cheek to rest momentarily on the child's head. "I know this has been difficult for you," she murmured into the child's dark curls. "I've missed you." 

"Nobody cares," Deannan moaned. "Everybody's doing what Aunt Winna wants; nobody cares what Father wanted." 

"The Restoration is a very old custom, Little One. Your father understood that when he came here. When he became a citizen of this planet, he became part of our world. The Restoration will honor him, help us all to remember why we loved him..." Lwaxana's voice cracked slightly. She paused for a moment, then lifted Deannan's chin, wiping a tear from the little girl's cheek. "He loved you very much."

"He went away," Deannan said quietly. "He went away, and he's never coming back."

Lwaxana looked down gently at her daughter, her huge brown eyes welling up with tears. "He's here, child." She tapped her chest lightly. "If you had your empathic powers, you might understand." The corners of her lips quirked upwards sadly. "I'll keep him safe for you until you're old enough."

Deannan lowered her eyes. "Aunt Winna says I might never have empathic powers. She says because Father was Human, I--"

Her mother's eyebrows shot skyward with anger. Deannan gulped. She'd been eavesdropping again, one of the few things her mother truly disapproved of. With a firm shake of the head, Lwaxana assured her daughter that she was not angry with her. 

"Your aunt is a deceitful old prig," Lwaxana hissed venomously. "Who should be more careful of what she says around young ears." She pulled her daughter into a fierce hug. "You will be the best of your father, Deannan." Her eyes shone with tears. "And the best of me as well." Lwaxana's head tilted upwards momentarily. "Little One, the ceremony is about to begin. You must come. You must remember your father with me." She stood, extending a hand to Deannan, who took it slowly. "We will always have him with us, my love."

* * *

Deannan held closely to her Aunt Durya's hand as she followed the procession into the clearing. It seemed an eternity they had walked, the elders and her mother first, followed by the family, then the guests from the other Houses, then finally the men, who chanted in low mournful tones. For a time, all she could see was the ceremonial robes of the women who walked ahead of her--mostly the dark crimson of the Fifth House, but also the deep gold, blue, green, and amber of the Betazed's other ruling Houses. She looked for familiar faces, but knew only a few of the people. Papa Franz had to stay in the back with the men, even though he was Grandmother's husband.

She stumbled in the torch-lit darkness, clutching tightly to Durya. The chanting grew louder, more somber as they neared the burial site. Deannan tried to shut her ears to the sound--Betazoid chanting, not the lilting sound of her father's cheery Earth music. For a moment, Deannan prayed to the Great Mother, made a solemn oath that she'd never, ever be bad, that she'd never ask for anything ever again, if only she could hear her father singing again. A gentle squeeze from Durya startled her. She looked up into her aunt's sympathetic face and knew that all the promises in the world wouldn't bring her father back now. It was too late.

As the procession circled around the grave site, Deannan could finally see what was happening. Her grandmother Tatyana, as the elder of the grieving House, had led the procession with her towering manservant, leading the floating form to its grave. Tatyana hobbled to her place in the center of the circles next to the grave, and the representatives took their places in front of five colored pyres representing the ruling Houses. A sixth pyre decorated in soft white tiinama completed the inner circle. Deannan's mother stood rigidly before it, staring at the crimson-draped corpse. Deannan stood next to Durya in the second circle, members of her family she'd never met flanking her as the concentric circles kept forming around the grave. 

When the chanting men finally completed the outer circle, Deannan heard a low gong sound in the center of the clearing. Tatyana's manservant stood next to the instrument, a look of dour concentration on his pale, gargantuan face.

Tatyana lifted one withered hand, her tiny frame made larger-than-life by the huge crimson elders' robe which engulfed her. The voice which floated out over the grave silenced the murmuring throng of mourners. "I am Tatyana, Elder of the Fifth House, Eyes of Riix, Keeper of the Holy Rings of Betazed. I call upon the Deities to accept our gifts of gratitude for the man who was Ian Andruk Troi. Born of Earth, died of Betazed, return him to the eternal path and guide him on his further journeys." The gong sounded again, and Tatyana raised both hands to encompass the circle. "Daughters of the Five Houses, the time for offering has come."

Deannan watched wide-eyed as the six pyres burst upward in colored flame. Nidia, the gold-clad representative of the First House, approached the body with all of the dignity that accompanied her position. Deannan had had no idea of her family's importance until this woman, possibly the most powerful woman on Betazed, had shown up. Even Grandmother had seemed awed by her quiet air of dignified authority. Nidia touched the anti-grav mechanism which supported the corpse and lowered it until it was hovering just above the open grave. "I am Nidia, Elder of the First House, Eyes of the Holy Mother, Keeper of the Sacred Keys of Life. I offer this body, which no longer confines the spirit, and thank the Mother for her generous gift of all existence. Return, Ian Andruk Troi, to whence you were created. This corporeal form no longer burdens you. May your journey be safe." With that, she touched the crimson shroud, which fell to the ground.

A shriek of horror ripped from Deannan's throat as Nidia revealed the naked corpse of what had once been her father. The entire lower half of his body had been shorn away in the explosion, and what little remained of his torso was mangled and torn. Deannan turned away from the sight, running straight into the waiting arms of Durya, who held her fiercely. 

"Quiet," she whispered, stroking Deannan's hair as the child whimpered hysterically. "It'll be all right, Deedle. Look," she pointed to the body, which hovered over the grave. "It's just a shell. It can't hurt you. Your father is Traveling again," she said solemnly. "Remember what you've been taught. His spirit is back among the stars, with Josz and Dariaen and..."

Deannan turned slowly to the grave, trying to connect the thing before her with the man who had sung to her and had laughed with her and had chased the monsters away. She was still staring in horrified fascination as the ethereal representative of the Second House took her place at the grave.

Selenaa of the Second House was a long-time friend of Deannan's parents. Beautiful and fragile, she was no older than Mother; yet she possessed strength and influence few could equal at even twice her age. "I am Selenaa, daughter of the Second House, Holder of Dariaen's Glass, heir to the Cradle of Stars." She placed a gossamer hand on the body's face, gently caressing. "Ian Troi, you brought beauty to our world, the boisterous music of your homelands, tales of old Earth which gave laughter through the years. Sister Dariaen, accept the beauty Ian Troi has given us and bring him joy throughout his journey." She placed a single rose from Lwaxana's garden across his chest and, as the gong sounded again, glided back to stand before the roaring blue pyre.

"I am Marta." The amber-clad Merchant was a stout older woman who moved gracelessly to the grave and stooped down over it. "Daughter of the Third House, holder of Zeina's Purse, heir to the Trader's Pass." She placed three coins on Troi's chest, then made the Trader's Sign over his body with her right arm. "Take these coins, Sister Zeina, so that he shall not hunger, nor want for shelter." Marta cast an appraising eye at Ian's body, lifting an eyebrow as her gaze wondered down his naked torso until it rested on the scarred tissue which ended abruptly what nature had intended to continue.

As soon as Marta turned back toward the circle, another woman was there to take her place. "I am Thesia, Daughter of the Fourth House." A tiny, brusque woman ambled to the grave. Her stocky frame and short, angular hair would have marked her as a Pathfinder, even if she'd not worn Traveler's green. "Holder of Josz's Scope, heir to the Maps. Josz the Protector, guide this fellow adventurer, guard him as you did the Child through the Storms of Caian." She leaned over to place a knotted mass of sailors' rope in the grave. "I offer this in gratitude for your guidance. May his path be straight and his troubles few."

Winna, as acting Elder of the Fifth House, shuffled toward the grave. Deannan suppressed a burst of resentment as the older sister of Lwaxana and Durya looked almost casually down at the body. Aunt Winna should not be the one offering gifts, she thought. It was Durya who'd played Quickthought with Father on Sundays afternoons. Grandmother had discussed politics endlessly with him. Even Papa Franz, who had married into the family and was no more Betazoid than Father, had more right to offer gifts than she did. All Aunt Winna ever did was criticize. A nudge from Durya halted Deannan's errant thoughts.

"I am Winna," her eldest aunt said in low, dramatic tones. "Daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Learner's Scrolls, heir to the Sight of Riix. Father of our world, father of all knowledge and joy, look with kindness on this son of Earth. A seeker of wisdom and delight like yourself, Ian Troi brought peace to my sister and a new Daughter to the Fifth House." She placed a Starfleet Academy pin on the still chest of her deceased brother-in-law. An almost imperceptible smile flickered across her creased lips. "Take this symbol of learning, Riix. My worthy brother may need it in the afterlife." She stepped back amidst the crimson fires of the Fifth House to the low gong.

The circle of gifts completed, all eyes now turned to Lwaxana. She stood before the white pyre, no longer even trying to hold back the tears which streaked down her face. She turned helplessly to her own mother, who nodded and joined her at the grave. 

Deannan pressed backwards against Durya, clinging tightly to the arms which held her. She watched as her mother glided to the grave and touched the anti-grav mechanism, lowering the corpse into the ground. "No," she whispered, but Aunt Durya only held her closer. 

Lwaxana now knelt beside the grave, unmindful of the oily dirt grinding into her white robe, her eyes locked on the sight before her. "I am Lwaxana," she said, her voice small against the thundering silence of the gathering. There was no drama in her tone, none of the theatrics for which Lwaxana was notorious. It was just that small, soft voice. "Daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Riix, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed." She took a handful of soil in her fist, squeezing it with such intensity that her knuckles whitened, and held it over the grave. "Ian Andruk Troi, I return you now to whence you came," she said. "Peace and safety on your journey."

As she sprinkled the soil into the grave, the gong sounded and all six pyres burst upwards simultaneously in a blinding column of white fire. The Circle of Elders began rotating clockwise around Lwaxana and Tatyana. As the chanting started again, each outer circle began its own opposing rotation until the rainbow of fire and darkness and colored robes forced Deannan to close her eyes against the dizziness. She held onto Durya fiercely with both hands, trying to force the image of her father's ravaged body from her mind's eye. She wanted this to end; she wanted to go home.

As the chanting reached a fevered pitch, Deannan saw something, just a short distance in front of her closed eyes. It was her father, rugged and laughing as he pulled on the oars of a flat boat. The sunlight reflected from the water onto his mustachioed face, the sound of his merry Greek song echoing above the distant chants. By the time Deannan realized that this wasn't her memory, that she'd never even seen her father with a moustache, everything stopped. She opened her eyes to peer up at Durya, who was staring at her inquisitively. 

Tatyana's voice caught them both by surprise. "Come, friends," she said ceremoniously. "Join us now in the celebration of the life of my son." At that, the outer circles began filing back towards the house, while the two inner circles of family collapsed in on Lwaxana. 

Durya stopped Deannan as she moved towards her mother. "Deedle, did you..." She paused as if considering her next words. "Did you see anything, child?"

"I saw Father on the lake, singing," Deannan said, still unsure if she really had seen it.

Winna, who had inched her way out of the crowd towards them, heard Deannan's claim. One long glance at Durya confirmed her unspoken query. "Child, is this the truth you speak?" she demanded in a low voice. Deannan nodded slowly. "Perhaps you will overcome your Earth heritage after all," she murmured as she turned towards the house.

"Perhaps she will, Winnan," Durya said so softly that only the slight pause in the Winna's step told Deannan she'd heard Durya's direct insult. Durya looked down at her niece with a face brimming with pride. "It is your first sensing, Deedle. Hold on to it."

Deannan nodded solemnly, a sudden need to be with her mother overwhelming her. She pushed her way through the thick skirts to Lwaxana's waiting arms. "I saw," she whispered excitedly into Lwaxana's ears. "I saw."

Her mother said nothing, just held Deannan tightly.

__

Enterprise  
The Present

Deanna Troi gazed at the olive tree, still feeling the memory of the power which surged through her at her first sensing. She knew that this was one of her father's saplings, held in stasis by the memory ball all these years. For a moment, she could see her father carefully tending his trees, could hear the jaunty melody of his favorite song clearly in her memory. She smiled, tapping her communicator. "Troi to Arboretum."

"This is Lieutenant Stein. What can I do for you, Counselor?"

"I have a new addition to your little family, Marla." For once, her mother had given her a gift she could really enjoy.

The End


End file.
